Chapter 10: The Baby Who Came Home
Nobody answered Noah.
Not Daniel.
Not Hammer.
Not me.
My eight-year-old son stood beside the fireplace, holding a photograph he had picked up from the coffee table.
It was the picture of Victor Hale.
The resemblance was undeniable.
The same dark eyes.
The same narrow chin.
The same slight crease between the eyebrows.
Even the crooked smile was there.
“Mom?”” Noah asked again.
“Why do I look like him?””
I crossed the room and took the photograph gently from his hands.
“Sometimes people look alike, sweetheart. That doesn't mean they're the same.””
Noah frowned.
“But Daddy said he's a bad man.””
Daniel stood.
“Buddy, come here.””
Noah didn't move.
“Is he my grandpa?””
Daniel looked at me.
I wanted to tell Noah that none of this was real. That his father had come home, that his family was simply complicated, and that everything would eventually be okay.
But the truth had already become too complicated for another comforting lie.
“Yes,” Daniel finally said.
“Victor is your grandfather.””
Noah looked confused.
“Then why is he trying to hurt us?””
Daniel had no answer.
Outside, the SUV remained at the end of the driveway.
Victor's voice was still coming through the phone.
“Daniel? Are you listening?””
Daniel lifted it.
“Stay away from my family.””
Victor chuckled.
“Your family? You abandoned them for eight years. Don't pretend you've suddenly become a father.””
Hammer stepped forward.
“Victor, if you come onto this property, you'll regret it.””
“Jackson Reed. Still playing the hero?””
Hammer's jaw tightened.
“I'm giving you one chance.””
Victor laughed.
“You've always been Danny's loyal little shadow.””
Hammer's face changed.
I had seen him angry before.
This was different.
This was personal.
Victor continued.
“Ask your brother what happened to the first baby.””
Daniel closed his eyes.
“Hang up,” I whispered.
But Victor wasn't finished.
“Ask him why the hospital records were changed. Ask him why your signature appears on the authorization form.””
Hammer looked down at the paper in his hand.
Victor's voice became softer.
“And most importantly, ask him why he never told you that he knew the truth.””
The call ended.
For several seconds, nobody moved.
Then Hammer turned toward Daniel.
“What truth?””
Daniel looked exhausted.
“Victor is manipulating you.””
“Answer the question.””
“Jackson—”
“Answer it!””
Noah flinched.
I immediately took him into the bedroom and closed the door.
He climbed onto the bed without being asked.
I sat beside him.
“Sweetheart, whatever happens, you are my son. Nothing changes that.””
He nodded.
“Even if I'm Grandpa Victor's baby?””
I kissed his forehead.
“Especially then.””
He looked down at the blue bracelet.
“Can I keep Daddy's bracelet?””
“Of course.””
A few seconds passed.
Then he whispered, “I wish everybody would stop lying.””
I closed my eyes.
“So do I, baby.””
When I returned to the living room, Hammer was standing over Daniel.
Walt had moved the curtains aside.
The SUV was gone.
But Hammer wasn't looking outside.
He was looking at the hospital authorization form.
“Danny, explain the signature.””
Daniel rubbed his face.
“Eight years ago, I discovered that Victor had arranged for two newborn identities to be registered at the hospital. I didn't know why.””
“And you kept quiet?””
“I was trying to find out what happened.””
“Without telling me?””
“I thought you were safer not knowing.””
Hammer laughed bitterly.
“That's the same excuse you gave Emily.””
Daniel lowered his head.
Then he finally spoke.
“The night Noah was born, Victor's wife gave birth to a premature boy. The baby was critically ill. The doctors believed he wouldn't survive.””
I stared at him.
“And Noah?””
“Our son was born healthy.””
“Then why were there two records?””
Daniel hesitated.
“Because Victor wanted to use his son's identity to claim the inheritance. But when his baby died, the plan became more complicated.””
Hammer frowned.
“Are you saying they substituted Noah for Eli?””
“That's what Victor wanted everyone to believe.””
My hands began trembling.
“Did they?””
Daniel shook his head.
“I don't know.””
I stared at him.
“You've carried this secret for eight years, and you don't know?””
He looked at me helplessly.
“I only saw the original file for a few minutes. Dr. Morris took it away. By the time I came back, the paperwork had been changed.””
Hammer studied the signature.
“This is not mine.””
Daniel nodded.
“I believe you.””
“Then why is it here?””
“Because somebody wanted you implicated.””
Walt suddenly looked up from his phone.
“Guys.””
Nobody responded.
He held up the screen.
“Victor just filed an emergency petition to freeze the family trust.””
Daniel stood too quickly and winced.
“What?””
“He claims the beneficiary's identity is fraudulent.””
I looked at the screen.
There was a photograph of a legal document.
At the bottom was Victor Hale's signature.
And beneath it was a statement declaring that Noah Carter was not legally entitled to the inheritance.
Hammer shook his head.
“That's impossible. The trust was created before Noah was born.””
Walt scrolled.
“There's more.””
A second document appeared.
It was an affidavit from Dr. Stephen Morris.
The statement claimed that the child registered as Noah Carter had been incorrectly identified at birth.
My stomach turned.
“Can he do that?””
Daniel looked at the document.
“He can try.””
Walt zoomed in on the final paragraph.
Then he went pale.
“Jackson.””
“What?””
“The doctor says the original child listed as Noah Carter died at the hospital.””
I grabbed the phone.
“What?””
The affidavit contained a date.
March fourteenth.
The day my son was born.
I looked toward the bedroom.
My little boy was sitting on the bed, playing with a toy car.
He was alive.
He was my son.
And somebody was trying to convince the world he had never existed.
Hammer slowly placed the phone on the table.
“Find Dr. Morris.””
Daniel nodded.
Then my phone rang.
It was my mother.
I answered immediately.
“Mom?””
Her voice was barely audible.
“Emily, listen carefully. I found something in the hospital archives.””
“What?””
“The original newborn identification log.””
My heart began pounding.
“Where are you?””
“I'm at the old medical records building.””
“Stay there. We're coming.””
“No!””
Her voice cracked.
“Emily, you need to understand something. The baby who died that night wasn't Victor's son.””
I gripped the phone.
“Then whose baby was it?””
There was a long silence.
Then my mother whispered:
May you like
“Victor's son was never born alive.””
And the line went dead.
